


Matches Lit

by LittleAsian



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Battle, Cuddling & Snuggling, Danger, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Family, Fights, Fire, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Harry Potter is a Little Shit, Help, Hogwarts, Home, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, Love, Love Triangles, Magic, Romance, WHATS NOT TO LIKE, Wands, Wizards, help me help you, i cant help myself
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:43:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6388831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleAsian/pseuds/LittleAsian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This writing begins in the setting of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Reader, Harper Sherlock, has just transferred schools from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After being privately sorted into Gryffindor, the young Scottish lass attempts to simply melt into the crowd and avoid as much as possible. Of course, this becomes nearly impossible one Harry Potter, the Chosen One himself, learns the firey redhead is the niece of his godfather--Sirius Black. Things only get worse for the young heroine who is attempting only to lay low when she realizes one of her fellow classmates is someone she got rather close to during the Quidditch World Cup that summer....<br/>Then the TriWizard Tournament is announced. Her friends from Beauxbotons are once more in her life, only adding fuel to the raging fire. The Yule Ball is the final breaking point of the trainwreck that has been her first year, and utterly everything comes crashing down. Things only get worse, when the Dark Lord himself returns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of the character affiliated with Harry Potter, those belong to J.K Rowling and her lovely stories. Harper Sherlock is a character of my own creation. I do not speak British, Irish, or Scottish, but have attempted to use slang where I can. Please let me know what you think.

Stepping off of the puffing train, known as the Hogwarts Express, Harper Leona Sherlock knew with a complete sense of finality that she was not at Beauxbatons anymore. Beauxbatons, it seemed to the young Scottish girl, had been far more about appearances than the platform on which she now stood. And while the castle she could see towering in the distance (which she had only visited twice before) was immense and awe-inspiring, it was not the polished grounds and bubbling fountains of her old wizarding school. But, she knew what she was getting into when she signed to transfer. Things had further become more final when she was escorted to the ground to have a private sorting over summer. She was a Gryffindor now, like her uncle had been. Her mother, and aunts on her mother's side, were the ones to attend Beauxbatons, and the reason she was sent there. Linage.

A pang of utter sadness filled the young witch's heart at the briefest thought of her parents. Harper had never known her father, and barely known her mother. She had heard hushed discussions of what he had done and of his old family, but he was never spoken of directly to the girl. She only found out through some curious snooping and severe eavesdropping. Harper was a child out of wedlock. The daughter of French and Scottish witch Camille Sherlock, a pureblood, a witch as strong as she was gentle and pure. She inherited her mother's fair skin, and her grandmother's red, wavy hair, and both their general desire to remain hidden, behind the scenes. She inherited the maternal last name. But more importantly, was Harper's father. Harper was the daughter of Regulus Black, young brother to Sirius Black. Her father had been a Deatheater. Her mother had known this, yet she had loved him anyways. She was a member of the original Order of The Phoenix, in its earliest of forms. He had done everything he could to protect her, and was ready to wed her, when he was killed, for his attempt to leave Voldemort's service. Regulus never knew he was to have a child. She was born in December of 1979, her father just missing her birth by mere months. Two years later her mother was killed by Lord Voldemort, as further punishment for her lover's digressions. Harper was hidden away amongst her Aunts, and her Aunt's children, neighbors, cousins. They moved to Scotland, a place there family had not lived in years, a place no one would expect. She was kept hidden, kept safe, until word of the Potter boy's defeat of the Dark Lord. And even then, she was never brought to her father's remaining family. There were hushed tones of her uncle's imprisonment, both that of it being wrongful, and also notes of 'goodfornothing' and 'it's about time.' After all, it was whispered that her Uncle was the one to betray the Potter family as well as murder twelve muggles. This was the only link she had left to her destroyed family. And though Harper had barely knew them, in her heart of hearts, Harper loved her parents, regardless of how little they had been in her life. Thinking of them always filled her with an emptiness nearly impossible to fill.

But it had been approximately a year ago when her Uncle had escaped Azcaban, for his wrongful imprisonment. At the time, Harper had only been fearful. There was word of him going after the Potter boy, the one who defeated Voldemort, but among her family, there was hushed tones that he was coming back...for her. And coming back for her, he was. Just not in the way any of them had imagined. When Harper had been on one of her 'nature walks' around the Beauxbaton campus (something she had done quite regularly simply to take some private time and practice magic of her own accord) he had found her. It was late, and she was by herself, and she was certain she was about to die when the gentle looking black dog she had been approaching and then gently petting morphed into the man whose face had glossed the papers for weeks. But he had calmed her, forced her to listen. He explained to her how he was framed, how he would never, on his life betray the Potters, for he had been best friends with James Potter, and was God Father to their son, Harry. It was Sirius who convinced Harper that Hogwarts was where she truly belonged, where she would feel far more at home than she ever had in the clean, sparkling halls of Beauxbotons, which were filled only with expectations she could never meet. It was Sirius who set up a safe place for her to stay over summer, rather than under the watchful eyes of her nosy aunts. And it was Sirius whom she begged to not tell Harry Potter about their relationship. She wanted nothing to do with the excitement and bustle of the chosen one. She wanted only to go about her years at Hogwarts learning as much as she possibly could, forming a few small friendships, perhaps getting into a small amount of mischief, and to make her uncle proud. The Chosen One could learn about her after all the stress of schooling was behind her.

As she followed a flood of students into the castle, Harper felt her cheeks burn red as she became confused and disoriented. Her brilliantly green eyes flashed about, looking for a familiar face. But, of course there were none. Her group of fair-haired, French speaking friends, were back at her old school. Harper made her first mistake by stopping in the flow of students, and was promptly hit in the shoulder, causing her to drop the papers she were holding and attempting to search through. If her cheeks could possibly become more red, they did. A blonde boy looked back at her with a sneer on his face, which promptly disappeared, his lips turning simply to a flat-pressed line, as he studied her, before nodding slightly as if in approval. "Who are you?" He asked, without even introducing himself. "Usually I recognize a dirty Gryffindor on sight, but you don't seem half as ugly as that lot. Perhaps a bit on the slow side though, stopping in the middle of the bloody hall like that." 

"A'm affly sorry!" Harper immediately replied, bending down to scoop up her papers, her Scottish brogue breaking through her well-practiced English in her moment of nervousness. "My name is Harper Sherlock, A'm a fourth year, well, a transfer really. I swear I'm not a bampot, really." She ran a hand nervously through her red hair, attempting to act as casually as she possibly could, as she looked him over herself.

The blonde wore black and green robes, the colours of Slytherin quite constrasting the gold and crimson of her own. His hair was a fair blonde, and precisely combed into such a fashion that he could only come from money. Anyone else wouldn't have nearly enough time, or care enough, to maneuver their hair into such a form. His skin was also fair and pale, the kind of skin which probably burnt easily when exposed to too much sunlight for too long a time. And while his eyes looked cold and rather harsh, she did take note they looked slightly less cruel than they had before she introduced herself. 

"Malfoy," he replied, sticking out a hand formally for her to shake, "Draco Malfoy. And a transfer? Really? We haven't had one of those in a while. Where'd you come from?" 

Gently, she took his hand and shook it for only a second, sure her own palms were full with sweat. "A'm from Beauxbotons," was all she replied, thankfully he hadn't asked why and she had no need to concoct some rubbish reason she had come to Hogwarts. "Is there any chance you can 'elp me along to the Dining 'All? A'm a wee bit turned around," She laughed nervously, scratching the back of her head. While she got some uneasy vibes rolling off of the blonde, he was the first person to speak to her all day and it really couldn't hurt to ask, could it?

Draco seemed to think for a moment, pressing his lips more tightly together and squinting at her in the most peculiar way. "I suppose it won't be too much of a trouble if you followed me there," He said finally. "Only because I'm headed that way. Don't get the idea I'm doing you a favour or anything." He stuck his hands in his pockets, pivoting on his heal and looking over his shoulder as if expecting her to follow. Harper hopped to it, quickly stepping beside him and trying to get her pace to match his. The ceilings towered around them and Harper couldn't help but study them in awe as they moved through them briskly, passing a few other students. The further they progressed, the more she could smell savory foods, and her stomach growled in response, loudly.

"Oh fer facks sake," the lass muttered under her breath. As if things couldn't get more embarrassing. But to Harper's surprise, the haughty blonde who was escorting her snickered. He actually snickered. "What are ya laughing at??" She asked, pushing him lightly on the arm. Perhaps it was an overly friendly gesture for two who just met, but this was Harper's nature. 

"Oh it's nothing, really," He replied, but after a stare that clearly said she wasn't letting him drop the topic, he concluded, "It's quite the loud sound to come from such a small girl." And the redhead couldn't help but roll her eyes. 

It was only a few minutes before they made it to the Great Hall and had to say their goodbyes. Harper was thankful for his help, and refused to stop professing such. "Really, I owe ya one, Draco," she said earnestly. "A'thing I can do fer ya, and you just let me know. "

"Oh shove off," he replied, but his tone was much more playful than it was filled with malice, if the blonde could speak in a playful tone. "Just go to your table and stop talking to me. Slytherins don't fraternize with Gryffindors. You best be keeping this a secret or I'll hex you for it." 

They parted and an uneasiness filled Harper once more. She was back to being on her own, amongst a sea of faces she didn't recognize. Near the head of the room, there were a few figures she knew from her over summer visits. Albus Dumbledore, the Head Master, with his gloriously long beard and knowing eyes, sat in the center of a long table, chatting with Professor McGonagall, who she had also met. As if he could feel her eyes upon him, Dumbledore turned ever slightly and met her gaze, giving only the smallest of smiles and a nod to show he had seen her. Of course, Albus knew of her relations with Sirius, which was one of the reasons she was so well accepted into Hogwarts. Harper felt slightly more comforted after meeting his gaze, and sat down promptly in the nearest spot she could locate, brushing out her short skirt so it wasn't riding up too far, and smoothing out her hair. She was so busy she didn't even notice the boy sitting directly across from her, until she heard his loud, vibrant Irish voice. 

A voice she recognized. Slowly, Harper looked up, seeing sandy hair and blue eyes, familiar blue eyes that reminded her of the skies above her on the early morning of the Quidditch World Cup. She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the buzz she had felt of that day. The ticket Sirius had bought for her in secrecy. how he promised he would be near if she needed, in Animagus form of course. There were so many witches and wizards around her, she had never felt so filled to the brim with happy energy. And when she had been in line for a butterbeer, he had been in front of her. 

"Aye ya know what, cash 'er's on me too," the boy in front of her had said, gesturing behind him and placing some money on the counter. She remembered him turning and handing her the butterbeer mug, their fingertips brushing as they passed the cup. She remembered chatting with him, finding out their seats were just a few away from each other, convincing nearby watchers to switch so they could sit together and cheer for the Irish. She remembered him introducing himself, the way his name rolled off her tongue, "Seamus," and the way no one had ever said her name so gently before. 

She remembered the elated feeling of his lips on hers in quick celebration of the win for the Irish, and that annoying pin he was wearing pressing against her skin. She remembered the terror that filled her when the deatheaters attacked, breaking their liplock, and the confusion on his face when she saw a black dog in the distance and took off running without anything more than the briefest "A'm sorry, I got ta go," and not knowing if he had made it out alive or not.

She took a deep breath and suddenly his voice pierced her thought, forcing her to open her eyes, " 'Arper?" He was staring at her with those blue eyes, narrowed slightly in confusion, "I thought ya went to Beauxbotons?" She looked down at her lap, back at him, to the front of the room. Her eyes would not stay put.

"Ay transferred," she replied flattly, not wanting to further explain herself, not wanting to talk, wanting the blush on her cheeks to fade. And suddenly she needed to want no more, for the Head Master called for attention, and neither of them had any further reason to speak.


	2. Chapter Two

Harper did her best to focus solely on Albus Dumbledore's words, and simply refused to look across the table. She could see him out of the very corner of her eye, whispering animatedly to a gorgeous, dark skinned lad with a curly little afro. She wanted to look at him, she really did. But if she looked at him, she knew they would be forced to have a conversation about what had happened. Or would they? Perhaps for him there hadn't been a spark with their kiss, perhaps for him it had simply been a nice snog fueled from the high of celebration. Perhaps seeing her had been such a shock to him, for he expected never to see the lass from Beauxbotons ever again. 

But she couldn't think about it. She had no desire to think about it. In fact, she concocted a plan to avoid the discussion all year, if possible. She listened instead to her new Head Master. He was beginning to announce something when suddenly a rather odd looking man appeared in the hall. He had scars upon his face and walked with a limp, but the most interesting aspect of the wizard was a rather terrifying looking glass eye which made Harper uneasy. It moved not in tandem with its real partner, but instead roamed on its own. The red head was so busy studying him that she almost missed Dumbledore introducing the man as Professor Moody, better known as Mad-Eye. Whispers erupted over the Hall. "As I was saying, we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year," the old wizard announced, silencing the students. The event would be replacing Quidditch for the year, something which caused two red headed twins to make angry words just loud enough to be heard. The Triwizard Tournament would take three "champions," one from each of the great European Wizarding schools. 

Harper's heart leaped into her throat. Beauxbotons was coming after her, her old classmates were coming to Hogwarts. On the plus side of things, some of her old, good friends would be there. But on the negative side of things, she had left some relationships on a rather bumpy path. There were certain bridges burned which would not be rebuilt, that she was a traitor and that was that. There was a nervous bubble in the pit of her stomach.

After his speech, students were urged to finish the elaborate meal set before them. Everyone was shoveling foods into their mouths while simultaneously gabbing about the TriWizard Tournament, which had a victors prize of one thousand Galleons. While the money sounded nice, and the thrill of victory and the chance to use her skills was enticing, the was two years shy of the allowed 17 years of age. Now that the speech was finished, Harper was forced to face the silent abyss that stretched across the table in front of her, with an uncomfortably silent Irish boy on the other side. Instead of talking, instead of looking up, the witch simply grabbed two rolls, shoved them in the pocket of her robes, bit deeply into a golden brown chicken leg, and promptly stood up from the bench where she sat and marched off out of the hall.

Of course, she marched straight back into the middle of absolute confusion as she had not a clue how to get to the common rooms for Gyffindor. Instead of stopping to ask for help, she trudged on, figuring eventually she would find her way. She was a little surprised by the moving staircases though. They definitely did not have those at Beauxbotons. As a moving staircase carried her over the open chasm below, she watched the moving paintings, distracted to the point that she did not see the other figure approaching at a slow, limped pace behind her, until a gruff clearing of the throat startled her so much she nearly jumped out of her skin. Behind her, leaning on a large, twisted cane, was Mad-Eye Moody himself. 

"Blimey, A'm sorry," Harper apologized quickly, "Am I in your way? I totally am, I'll move." She began to slide towards the side of the railing, making as much space as she possibly could for the Professor to pass. 

"Ms. Sherlock, yes?" Professor Moody asked her, not making any movement to keep climbing the stairs. "Ye look a bit lost. Is there anything I can point ya towards?" He shifted on his weight, taking the balance off of his bad leg. 

Her eyes widened. "Actually, yes..." she murmured, thinking over how he possibly could have known her name. Perhaps the professors all knew about her, the one transfer, the fourth year. "I cannae find the Common Room. Can you tell me where it's at?" she stuck her hands in her pockets sheepishly. 

"Aye, I can do ya one better, I'll escort you there," The Professor replied, now starting to walk forward. "Come along, I don't have much time to be helping all the lost students." It was a joke, clearly, but Harper was not laughing. She opened her mouth to argue she had a rather good excuse for being lost, but suddenly decided to keep quiet instead. Don't bite the hand that feeds you, and what not. "So what do ya think of Hogwarts thus far, Ms. Sherlock?" Professor Moody asked as they climbed further up. 

"Well I like it fine enough so far, for the hour I've been in it," She responded sarcastically, pulling herself forward. She would have to exercise more if she were to be climbing stairs like this every day. 

Moody let out a sharp laugh. "It'll get easier, it always does." Perhaps the appropriate response would have been a 'thank you,' but Harper didn't give one. "So Ms. Sherlock, that's you're mother's surname, yes?" 

"Yes, sir," She replied, again becoming wary. Why did he care? A deep, cold unease hung above her. "My mother was Camille Sherlock, sir." She could feel his glass eye studying her, and it made her want to barf. 

"Interesting..." his scratchy voice trailed off. "Why did ya not take your father's name then? Wouldn't you have preferred to be a Black?" 

The hair on the back of Harper's neck stood up slowly, and she could feel a cold spread about her. "I never knew mah father," She replied slowly. "I barely knew my mother. But she was the only one to raise me. My family never spoke of my father, I know nothing about him." This was a lie, but she hoped he couldn't see through it. She wanted nothing more than someone, anyone, to join them on the stairs. She was suddenly very aware of how alone the two of them were. "Are we near to the common room yet?" She asked, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. 

"Oh, yes, the entrance is right through that portrait," Moody indicated with a jerk of his thumb. "And between you and me, Ms. Sherlock," he said, leaning in, "It's probably better ya went with your mother's name. Blacks tend to come to very treacherous ends." His words hung on the air as he turned and limped off, as the young witch stood watching, almost too afraid to move. The words couldn't have been a threat, could they? No, not from a professor....But Harper wasn't so sure.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because there is no official canon houses for Beauxbotons, I used this website as my source for houses:  
> https://www.reddit.com/r/harrypotter/comments/2ud7bu/if_beauxbatons_and_durmstrang_had_houses_like/

Harper sat on a crimson chair in the common room, in front of a softly glowing fire, her head rested in her hands, elbows propped on her knees, wondering why she had gotten herself into such a mess. It was all of her own accord, obviously, and no one could fix it but she. Staring at the red and gold which surrounded her, she was surprised she had even made it into Gryffindor. With such a deep, entrenched love for knowledge, she would have expected to be thrown into Ravenclaw (and of course she had researched each house extensively, thirsting for any knowledge available for her). And if she had been put in Ravenclaw, she wouldn't been dealing with at least half of this mess.The odds of her seeing Seamus would be lowered, and encounters with The Chosen One minimized. When she had looked into things, she spent a decent amount of time on each house. Slytherin had been far too cunning for her, and had quite the bad rap, but consequently, Hufflepuff was too soft sided her for taste (not that there was anything wrong with either of these traits, they just didn't seem fit for her). Ravenclaw had seemed the ideal, the thirst for knowledge her true drive in life, the idea of answering riddles every day simply to enter her own Common Room, being buried in old books, reading her favourite Sylvia Plath poems...it sounded perfect. But when she was sitting on the small stool in Dumbledore's office, the Sorting Hat perched upon her head, rather uncomfortably, with several professors standing around her and her uncle watching, all she could think was making her Uncle Sirius proud. Her was the last of her family she would ever know, and he loved her, and he had inspired her move here. She wanted only to make him proud of her, nothing more. So when the hat croaked out the word "Gryffindor!" she wasn't even really that upset, especially not when she saw the smile on her Uncle's weathered face. And then she thought, perhaps, a slight amount of this decision had to do with her old house at Beauzbatons, Moutrier. Moutriers valued love nearly as much as Albus Dumbledore himself, thinking it perhaps the strongest magic in the world. And it was love that brought her to Gryffindor. 

It was a crack from the fire that drew the red head out of deep thought. She looked up at the fire, shocked to see the blurry face of her Uncle staring back at her. "Sirius?" She gasped out in a whispered voice, sliding off of the couch and onto her knees, looking into the embers of the fire. "Is that really you? Please tell me A'm not a dobber..." 

The smile on her Uncle's face told her enough before her even answered. "Well I couldn't rightly miss the first day of my only niece, now could I?" His voice came from within the fire, his chuckles causing small sparks to fly. "How's it been going for you, love?"

Harper smiled slightly, she couldn't help it. "Well...it hasn't necessarily been going as expected..." she trailed off, biting her lower lip. "But A'm glad to be back where he was, my da. And you too. It feels right." This much was true. 

The concern in his eyes was visible,even through the embers and flames. "Well what's going wrong, child?" She could see his eyes darting around. "And I'm truly sorry, I don't have a lot of time." She wasn't surprised by this. It wasn't often that her uncle had any time at all. Things had gotten better of course, with the help of Dumbledore, but his word wasn't enough for everyone. "And have you met Harry yet?" He asked, excitement in his voice. 

Harper shrugged, avoiding his first question and choosing to answer his second. "I hae not met 'im yet, but A've been a little busy," she answered honestly. "You didn't tell him about me, did you? I asked you not to do that..." she said with a slight groan.

"Oh Harry is fine, trust me, Harper," her Uncle replied,not really answering her question at all. And at that moment, Harper heard the sound of the door opening to the Common Room, and voices filter down the short hallway that lead towards where she was.

"Sirius I've got to go, well, you've got to go!" She said hastily, "People are coming. I love you. Write me soon?" 

"Of course, don't you worry. Love you, child," her Uncle replied, a sad smile on his face, wishing they could only speak further. 

"Love you, Sirius," she replied, blowing a kiss towards the fire before his face winked out and only flames were left. She frowned, sad to see him go. And that's how they found her when her schoolmates walked in, lead by two students, a ginger boy and another with deep, brown hair and thin glasses. She looked up, wide eyed, hoping no one had caught sight of what was happening. The only person who caught her eye was the boy in front, the one with the wire frame glasses. He had stopped dead in his tracks. 

"It-it's you, isn't it?" He said to her, loud enough for others to hear. Of course, Harper recognized the face, the unruly hair, and the boy who was no doubt a Weasley close beside him. It was Harry Potter, the Chosen One himself. 

"I have no idea what you're gettin on about," She said, standing up quickly from the fire, brushing ash off of her black pleated skirt. "Ae think you've got me confused, we've never met before." She could feel her cheeks start to burn red, a telltale sign of her embarrassment, as she mentally willed him to leave her be. 

"No, they told me you were coming...it is you!" he exclaimed, standing across from her, only the couch between them. His tone was rather accusatory, which surprised her. "You're his niece! You're Sirius's niece." His words caused a hush to fall over the handful of students within the room. Thankfully there weren't many, ten at the most, but Harper could feel each of their eyes upon her as she stared Harry in the eyes, her gaze cold and clearly angry. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied slowly and pointedly, "Now if you'll please excuse me." She turned to move towards the stairs leading up, pausing for only a moment when she saw another familiar face, Seamus, standing almost entirely in her way. Figures. This was easily the most embarrassing moment of her life. 

"Stop, I want to speak with you," Harry called after, trying to weave between students and get to her, but she pushed on.

"My name is Sherlock, not Black," she replied, "Please, just leave me alone." She was nearly at the stairs, all that was between her was Seamus's tall figure, watching her with steely eyes. 

"'Arper," he said softly, only loud enough for her to hear, looking as if he were about to reach out a hand to her. But she couldn't meet his eyes. Her face was beat red and her eyes beginning to sting. Everyone knew now, everyone would associate her with a supposed murderer, and a Death Eater. She shouldn't have come, she knew that much. There was no way Seamus would truly want to speak with her after this, that much was clear. Not once word spread. 

"Please, just leave me alone," she repeated to only the Irish boy as she brushed past him, their shoulders connecting ever so slightly. As she hurried up the stairs, taking them two at a time, she couldn't help but rub her shoulder gently, where the traces of electricity still buzzed.


	4. Chapter 4

Harper certainly didn't sleep well that night, what with the girls muttering on about that awkward confrontation upon entering their shared dorm, only to stop when they laid eyes upon her. The whispers made Harper pull her blankets more tightly about her and wish more than anything she was back at her old school. No one whispered about her there, at least not in a bad way....perhaps they did now, what with her traitor status and all. Thinking about the events of tomorrow....the Quidditch tryouts she was now considering avoiding, made her stomach somersault. Maybe she should just skip the tryouts. She was taking on too much too soon. 

But then she thought about how at home she felt on a broom. The breeze in her hair, the way she felt as if it were a dance, the great feeling it felt to throw that Quaffle through one of the goal posts...and she remembered Sirius telling her that her father had played as well. Her father. She would love to see photos of him. She would have loved to know him, to have him be in the stands, to have him be proud of his little girl, the girl he never even knew was going to be born. A part of her wondered, if wherever he was, he knew she existed. If he was looking down, or up, or wherever and seeing her. There was no way to really know.

Fitfully, Harper managed to sleep. She slept so poorly that dreams did not even grace her with their presence. When she woke in the morning, most of the other girls were sleeping. It was still early, a few hours prior to classes, and the sun was just barely rising, creating a mist about the grounds when Harper glanced out the window. Deciding to take some time to herself, Harper put on a pair of tightly fit jogging pants, and a tank top, pulling her long hair up into a ponytail. Making her way outside, she looked around the grounds, the gentle way which the mist caressed the slopes, and it was comforting. Following her instincts, she took off on a short jog, hoping the exercise would clear her mind enough to help her make it through the day without her cheeks turning red or tears bursting from her eyes. 

When she returned, she did feel relaxed. So much so that when she returned from the showers, hair wrapped up in a towel, and all the other girls turned to look at her, she didn't even flinch. Instead, she offered them all a small smile, before moving slowly to her bunk. She heard a few of them exit the room almost immediately, but didn't let it get to her. Letting her long red hair down, she sat in front of the small vanity beside her bed and began to comb through it, ensuring the soft waves wouldn't turn into crazy curls. 

She heard a small clearing of the throat behind her, and turned. There stood a young girl with curly, dirty blonde hair and a purple headband keeping her hair out of her face. "Um, hello," She said in a soft, high-pitched voice. "I figured, just, that someone aught to introduce themselves to you. I'm Lavender, Lavender Brown." After a second, she jutted out her hand.

After a split second's consideration, Harper reached out and shook her hand, a relieved smile crossing over her face. How incredibly nice it was for someone to talk to her, to not hear only the rumours and not bother to find the truth. "I'm Harper Sherlock, but you probably already 'eard that," The redhead said with a nervous laugh, "it's really, really nice to meet you."

Lavender smiled, and the two quickly began to examine their schedules, finding out they had nearly every single class together, which was comforting to the newcomer. "Thank goodness, A'm sure I would've gotten miserably lost without someone along with me." Admittedly, Lavender's personality seemed somewhat different than what her usual friends were, but beggars really couldn't be choosers, and Harper was pretty sure she constituted as a beggar right now. Not to mention, Lav had been the only one to attempt to talk to her since the incident yesterday. 

The first two classes went by rather quickly, the only slight hold up being one moment during a class with Hagrid. They were taking care of these odd skrewt creatures, something which both intrigued Harper, and made her slightly nervous. The nerves may have had something to do with Seamus being in such a close proximity as well. She was constantly adjusting her the hem of her skirt and the tie around her neck. Perhaps she shouldn't have worn her uniform to a T. Some of the other students seemed to have taken the liberty to not dress exactly how the uniform described. The small hitch occurred precisely because of Seamus, of course. He seemed to be causing an extreme amount of troubles for her. 

There had been a small bang and smoke appeared in the air. The skrewt seemed to have produced some sort of small explosion. Of course, a corus of groans occurred, and long, drawn out "Seamus"s and "again?"s . Harper looked over, to see the cute young wizard with a bit of ash on his face, and a cocky grin. Harper could feel the corners of her lips twitch, and she focused more on her own little "pet," when Lavender appeared at her side. 

"Look at him," she whispered into Harper's ear, giggling. "Isn't he cute?" 

Immediately, Harper's cheeks flushed and she looked down at her skrewt with increased focus. "What do you mean?" 

"Seamus Finnigan," Lavender whispered again, still giggling a little as she spoke. "I've had my eye on him all year, but I don't think he notices me much..."

"Oh, don't say that," Harper said fakley, trying to control the painful feeling in her stomach. "I'm sure everyone notices someone as cute as you." It sounded like the right thing for a friend to say, and she let her hair fall in front of her face so that her newfound friend would not see how tightly she was clenching her teeth. 

Divination was when things really went south. Climbing up to the attic, Harry Potter tried to stop her once more, and she was forced to literally sprint up the stairs, earning some weird looks from her classmates. Stumbling into the attic, she immediately felt odd. The warm buttery feeling and the soft lights, made her feel woozy, yet...heightened. Like her senses were all at their peaks. A young Professor with wild hair and big glasses turned to look at her. "Ms. Sherlock, our lovely new student.I figured you would be hear shortly, and here you are! Let us wait for the rest of your classmates and I shall introduce you through a reading."

"Oh, no, no thank you. That really isn't necessary," Harper said immediately, putting up her hands and backing towards a small seat.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry but it is a must do. You can't get out of this one. Also, trust me, that is not the seat you want to be sitting in," The Professor replied, "And my name is Professor Trelawney, I know you're wondering."

Harper's brow furrowed. She had been wondering that at this exact moment. Stepping away from the seat she almost sat in, she moved closer to the Professor. Moments later, Harry Potter and his ginger-haired friend entered, sitting down directly next to the seat she had almost sat in. Perhaps there was more to this Professor than the rumours.

Seamus and his friend from the first night entered and sat down, followed by Lavender and one of her friends. The blonde gave her a small wave as she walked by and Harper grimaced. This was bound to be mortifying.

After everyone had arrived, Professor Trelawney clapped her eyes. "Welcome, welcome, everyone. As you all seem to already know, we have a new student joining us. Harper Sherlock, of Scotland, formerly the Beauxbaton sweetheart," at these words Harper's cheeks began to grow quite red and she looked down at her kitten heels, when suddenly the Professor placed a hand atop Harper's red hair, and the girl had to force herself not to flinch and pull away. "Harper....I feel as if you were born in late winter, is that right?"

The fourth year nodded slightly, "Yea, late December..." she muttered.

"Ah, a Capricorn. Born beneath Saturn. Oh darling, you need to stop trying so hard to find your place. All you Saturn children seem to make that mistake," Trelawney muttered and the class tittered. Harper shot the quickest glance up at the class, all of whom seemed to be laughing, except Seamus who was just watching her, a slight curiosity in his eyes. Upon catching his eye, Harper's eyes immediately widened, and she hurriedly looked back to the floor.

"I see that you are looking for family, oh yes, your family has quite the past..." Trelawney began, waving her hands around widely. 

'Please stop talking about that, please stop,' Harper thought to herself. That was the last thing the class needed to hear about. 

"Oh, oh I see," Trelawney said immediately, and changed the subject, causing Harper to wonder once again if she really knew what she was seeing. "Oh and your heart, poor dear, it's all sorts of confused. Stop following your brain so much. Use your heart and inner eye more. Now, where to put you...." she mused, looking out at the class. "Mmm...no, no, not there. Not for today." The class was seemingly forming into groups of three and Harper could not do a thing but fiddle with the end of her pleated skirt. She glanced over at Lavender, who smiled apologetically as she formed a group with two of her longterm friends. "Ah yes!" Professor Trelawney said finally, clapping her hands once, "Mr. Thomas, Mr. Finnigan, please welcome Ms. Sherlock into your group." And with that, the Professor, shoved Harper lightly towards the two boys. 

"Of facking course," Harper muttered to herself, pressing her lips into a thin line as she approached the small, circular table which they sat around. Sitting down on the tiny, cushion chair, she adjusted her knee high socks nervously. "'Ello," she muttered softly, her hair falling in front of her face like a curtain. Surely, Seamus had told the other boy all about what a terrible embarrassment she was, how she had literally run away from him. For all she knew, he thought she was a bad kisser. 

"Dean," Seamus said almost immediately, his voice surprisingly light, causing Harper to look up slightly. So that was the other boy's name. "This is 'Arper, the one I told ya about, she's a real riot. Almost as funny as I am." He glanced over at her with his bright blue eyes, a small grin on his face. 

"Nice to meet you, Harper," Dean said, holding a hand over the table. Gratefully, she shook his hand quickly, mouthing a small 'thank you,' towards Seamus when no one was looking. Maybe he hadn't been saying anything bad afterall. All the memories of why she had been so interested in him in the first place shifted back into view. His humour, his gentle side....this was going to make class increasingly more difficult. 

Today, it appeared, they would be using star charts to try and find the planets which were present at their birth, when Harper began to feel drowsy. She rubbed at her forehead. Maybe she was simply dehydrated. The incense which Trelawney had lit at their table certainly wasn't helping anything.

"Are you alright, Harper?" Dean asked, looking up from his chart, "You look a little pale."

"Yea, yea, I'm fine," she insisted, "This incense is just...making things a little fuzzy..." she murmured, her lips buzzing and tongue not wanting to cooperate. What in the bloody hell was happening? 

Seamus put his hand lightly on hers, "You sure you're alright?" She looked up at him to say something in response, when his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open a little. "'Arper...your...your eyes..." he said quietly, turning to look for the Professor.

"What about them?" She said woozily, beginning to feel incredibly faint. 

"They're turning black!" Dean said in shock, calling out for Trelawney to come back over.

Harper looked at Seamus, wide eyed, grabbing onto his hand. The edges of her vision were starting to dim, like curtains closing to cover a stage. What was happening?? Why was it happening now, in front of everyone? She couldn't hear Seamus or Dean talking, but could barely see their mouths moving. Suddenly, her body slumped and she feel forward, head hitting the table and knocking the incense holder to the ground, shattering it to pieces.


	5. Chapter 5

Harper woke with a jolt, sitting up and looking around her, ready to cover up whatever had just happened in front of the class, but she was no longer in that dim attic with the awful incense. Instead, she was lying on a small cot, a curtain drawn around her. Stretching, she reached over and yanked the curtain open. She was in a sort of recovery area. Standing near the door was Seamus and Dean, muttering to one another and snickering occasionally. Immediately, she frowned. If they were laughing at her, she would have it out at both of them. 

When they saw the jerk of the curtain, both looked up, relieved looks on their faces, as both boys made their way over to the girl. 

"Ya gave us quite a scare there, 'Arper," Seamus joked, "Passin out like that in class. An then the mutterin." Dean elbowed him lightly in the side.

"Muttering?" Harper asked, confused, "What do you mean? The incense just got to me, that's all."

"Well," Dean said, "The Professor seems to think you had a gift of the Sight, which is why you started muttering rapidly after passing out. Hard to make out exactly what you were saying, though. Remember anything?"

Harper paused, thinking back to what had happened between everything turning black and waking up in this bed. There were a few flashes, but she wasn't sure they were anything concrete, not yet. "Um, a ballroom, lots of bright lights...shouting...someone being in danger, but I'm not sure who. I don't know, really. That might have been just a dream, too..."

"Well, either way," Seamus said lightly, "Ya got us out of class so thanks for that!" It was clear he was trying to make the nervous redhead feel a little better, or at least get that cute blush off her cheeks. 

Seconds later, Lavender came bursting through the door, her blonde hair flying. "Ohmygoodness, Harper!" She practically ran toward the girl, throwing her arms around her in a tight hug. "I'm glad you're okay! You are okay, right? Nothing serious?" 

"Nothing serious," Harper confirmed with a quick nod. 

Smiling, Lavender quickly turned to Seamus, "And thank you, thank you, for taking care of my friend!" She threw her arms around him in a tight hug as well. Harper had to look away to keep the uncomfortable look off her face. She wasn't entirely sure why it bothered her so much. Perhaps it was the lose ends between the two, but Harper knew that was all her own fault. How she had acted, when things went down, that was incredibly cowardly and rude of her. Eventually, she would have to find the chance to tell him this in person. And maybe, she would tell Lavender about her history with the Irish boy. But for now, she would just have to ignore it and not punch her only friend in the boob.

Once more, the door was thrust open, and three students entered as Lavender detangled herself from Seamus. Harper's stomach immediately sank. It was Potter, with his two friends who were always around him. And they were headed straight for her. This time, she had nowhere to run. Groaning, she sunk deeper into her pillows propped behind her. 

Stopping in front of her, the trio seemed to take a second to look her over. "She looks fine," the girl said to no one in particular. "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, and this is Ron, and Harry" the bushy haired young witch said. Harper didn't meet her eyes, just nodded. The redhead had pulled her knees to her chest, resting her head upon them. 

Harper knew what sort of questions were coming, and she didn't want anything to do with them. "Can you leave?" She said quietly to the three newcomers, "I'm tired. Whatever happened, it took a lot out of me." 

Hermione pressed her lips into a thin line, turning to the other two, "Perhaps we should..." she began.

"No!" Harry Potter said, gripping the foot of her cot, "I've got some questions and I'd say it's about time you answer them." His words were both at the same time an order, yet also filled with pleading.

"Oy!" Seamus interjected, moving closer to stand near the head of Harper's cot. "Didn't you hear her? She's not up to dealing with you lot right now!" 

Harper thought it was incredibly sweet, how he stood up for her like that, but it wasn't his job. He wasn't her boyfriend, they were hardly even friends at this point. Gently, she reached over and placed a hand on his wrist to calm him. "Seamus, it's alright. If Harry Potter wants to interrogate a girl who just passed out in class, by all means, let him." She turned to look at Potter, raising a thin red eyebrow. "What is it that you want to know?" 

Harry stopped for a moment, seemingly surprised that she was actually complying, paused for a moment. "I want to know who your father is," he said finally, flatly, staring into her eyes. 

"My father is Regulus Black, brother of Sirius Black," Harper replied, "He died before I was even born, he never knew I existed." She said each sentence with spite, tired for being substituted to others disappointment or judgement of her based off a person who never even knew her. 

"Wait," Seamus said, "You really are the nephew of...of...that murderer?" 

"He was framed," Potter and Sherlock said simultaneously, both turning to look at the other, surprised. 

"My uncle was framed, or so I've been told," Harper continued. "I've never known him personally." It was a lie, and she could tell Harry knew it. Of course he knew, for he knew about his godfather now, and everything which ha happened to him. 

"I...I just wanted to hear you say it," Harry said finally, "To know for sure, that it was you. I was told you would be here." 

Seamus snorted, muttering under his breath, "That makes one of us," and Harper's cheeks flared red. 

"Well, yea, I'm here now," Harper said softly, "And it's for the better. My family went here, it just feels...right." It felt good to say that to someone else her own age. "Is that all you wanted?" 

Harry sighed, pushing a hand through his unruly hair. "Yea, yea I guess it was. Suppose we can get lunch tomorrow?" He asked, looking at her once more.

"Get lunch? I mean, sure, we can eat together," Harper replied slowly, suddenly aware that Seamus had moved away from the reach of her hand on his wrist. Perhaps it was a mistake, she should have said no. She didn't want the Irish lad getting the wrong idea. "Friends?" She asked, to make it blatantly clear.

"Yea, yea," Potter replied, "Friends. Yea that sounds good. Well, I'll see you tomorrow then." 

Harper simply nodded, pressing her lips into a thin line. It was a mess, all of it. She turned to Seamus, reaching for his arm once more, but he didn't move any closer to her. 

"Well, we best be going then," Seamus said, "Wouldn't want to interrupt your rest anymore." 

Harper opened her mouth to say something, but no words would come out. She stayed there, with her mouth slightly open as they all left.


	6. Chapter 6

Thankfully, they let her out of the nurse's area in time for the Quidditch tryouts. No way in hell was she about to miss those. When they released her, she hurried back to her dorm and grabbed her broom, changing into some athletic wear, pulling her wavy red hair into a high braid. Making her way down to the Quidditch pitch, she could see groups already forming, and she was worried she had missed her chance already. 

Thankfully, they were just beginning. A handsome young man was standing in front of the group, explaining the procedure for the tryouts. "Now," he said, "Normally I play Keeper. But I want this to be a fair tryout for all of you. How many of ya want to try out for Keeper?" A couple students raised their hands. "What about Chaser?" Harper stepped forward and raised her hand distinctly. There was only one other student who raised their hand. A few raised their hand for Beater, and Seeker, but Harper saw Harry standing by. It was unlikely that anyone would pass up his Seeker skills, but it was always good to have a backup."Well, I'll play Chaser in some of these tryout matches, so those of ya who want the chance to try and be a Keeper can take it." From the air of his voice, and the way he held himself, Harper found it highly unlikely anyone would surpass his skills either. Harper felt a slight comfort in his accent, for it sounded a rather lot like her own.

When the students dispersed, Harper stepped forward to introduce herself. "Ey," the boy said, "Our new Chaser tryout. Ya any good?"

Harper shrugged, "Played for Beauxbatons for few years now. I'm Harper Sherlock," she smiled up at him. He had shaggy brown hair and chocolate brown eyes, and a sense of humbleness about him, although he held himself with a stance that suggested he had great skill. 

"Ahh, from Beauxbatons? Nice," he replied, "And I'm Oliver Wood. Is that a touch of Scottish I hear in ya?"

"Born and raised," she replied, and the two found each other both smiling at the small connection, which tethered them together. The fell into a comfortable silence where both were just smiling, and a soft red touched both their cheeks. "Well, A'll be off to warm up now," she said, embarrassed. "I'll see ya on the field?" 

"Of course, don't go easy now, okay? They're pretty intense here," Oliver said sheepishly, "And I think we could use ya on the team."

Harper nodded and smiled gratefully, before walking off to join some of the others. She gave Harry a small wave as she did as well. There were a few others stretching and hoping on their brooms, so Harper did the same. It felt good to be on her Firebolt once more, a gift from Sirius sometime the year prior. She was elated to have the same broom as Irish International Quidditch Team. Thinking of the Irish Quidditch Team made her think of the World Cup which made her think of Seamus...and those were not thoughts she wanted in her head, not when a handsome Quidditch player like Wood was eyeing her and smiling. 

The tryouts started easy enough, practicing maneuvers, speed, the usual things. And then they began an actual game, something not too intense, but Harper knew she had to put on all her moves to prove she had what it took. She was glad Oliver Wood was on her team, because it gave them more of a chance to chat. And so, Harper did what she did best: she played a bitchin game of Quidditch. She pulled some Finbourgh Flicks and Reverse Passes, helping her team score as much as they could, but near the end of things, they were tied up. 

Wood had the Quaffle in his possession as they flew through the air, Harry and one of the other tryout Seekers chasing after the snitch. It seemed as if Harry was going easy, otherwise the game could have been over long ago. The Keeper they were up against was good, but not terribly good, it was the Beaters who were the real problem. One of them sent a Bludger right towards Wood, and there was no way who could score and doge the ball headed right for him. 

Above him, Harper shouted, "Wood, toss it up!" as she stood up on her broom, not sure if what she was doing would be the right choice. It would put them ahead, that was for sure, and it appeared the practice was almost over. Harper, as much as she wouldn't want to admit it, loved to win. As the Quaffle rose to her height, Harper shouted once more down to the boy who was dodging the Bludger, "Don't let me drop!" and she jumped.

The definition of a Dionysus Dive is when a Chaser stands on their broomstick and leaps, punching the Quaffle towards a goalpost. It's not meant to be graceful, or easy, or safe. It's meant to secure points. And that's exactly what Harper did. After her gloved fist connected with the ball, she was dropping, and then she wasn't, she was on Wood's broom, and he was cheering. Pulling out her wand, she quickly said "accio broom," and her broom came zooming back towards them. 

"Is that good enough for ya standards, Wood?" She teased as she slid over to her own broomstick. 

"That was bloody brilliant, Sherlock," Oliver Wood grinned, "I would say you've got yerself a pretty solid spot." 

 

And she did. Harper made the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, and she was so pleased she nearly cried. Maybe this would be the place she would fit in, where she would find a sense of home, of family. Her Quidditch team back at Beauxbatons were some of the more angry friends when she announced she was moving, and she didn't blame them. She had been part of a team, and she had bailed. Now, maybe, she had a chance to find that sense of team again.

"Hey Sherlock!" Oliver Wood called out, jogging to catch up to the redhead as she walked away. "Brilliant job out there, bloody brilliant." 

Harper couldn't keep the grin off her face. "Thanks, Wood. You weren't too shabby yourself, for a Keeper."

Wood seemingly couldn't keep the grin off his face. "Well, I'm glad ya think so Sherlock. I was wonderin if ya wanted to grab a Butterbeer sometime?" His words were soft, gentle, much less harsh than the way he was on the Quidditch pitch. They had stopped walking now, and Harper was staring at him, blinking, before she realized she had to say something, anything, really.

"Yes!" She blurted finally, her cheeks flaring as red as her hair, causing Wood to laugh. "Oh god, don't ya start laughing at me," she protested teasingly. 

"A'm not laughing at ya, Sherlock, I promise," He said, carefully brushing her bangs out of her face. "Yer just cute when you get embarrassed is all." 

For a second there, Harper was terrified. Terrified that he would try to kiss her, or something along those lines. Terrified it wouldn't be the same as when...when Seamus had kissed her, or that she would forget how that had felt. Gingerly, she moved away from him, in the most casual way possible, to avoid any chance at that. "Just say the word and we can go," Harper said with a smile, "But tonight I gotta get back, there's some homework I need to finish. Wouldn't want ta get kicked off the team for poor grades," she explained.

 

"Nah, we wouldn't want that," Wood affirmed, not picking up her desire to not kiss him, thankfully. "I've got ta head back that way, too. Mind if I walk ya?" 

Harper didn't refuse, so they walked side by side back to the Gryffindor dorms before parting. Harper couldn't deny she was glad she had not run into Seamus on the way, she wouldn't want to explain what she was doing with the other wizard. She wasn't sure why she cared, she really shouldn't. Yet she found herself caring quite a bit about what he thought of her, even though the subject of what had happened between them never had come up again. 

Grabbing some of her homework, Harper made her way down to the library, intending not only to study, but to finish all of her weeks homework so she wouldn't be dealing with it later on. It was the most efficient way to deal with things, after all. She worked so hard, and so late, that she dozed off for a little bit by the light of the candle on the desk at which she sat. 

She woke with a start as someone touched her shoulder, and looked up with a start, red locks falling in her face. She wiped at her chin to make sure she wasn't drooling, and looked up right into those brilliantly blue eyes that haunted her so much. Seamus, right there, looking down at her. 

"Hey, ya fell asleep and it's gettin close to curfew. Didn't want ya to get in trouble for fallin asleep here," he said softly, extending a hand to help her stand up. She took it, and he pulled her up, and both were increasingly aware of how close they were in proximity. Unlike earlier that day, with Wood, Harper didn't find herself backing away. 

"What were you doing in here so late?" She whispered, feeling as if it were the only appropriate way to speak at this hour of night in the library. 

"Studying," he said sheepishly, "I've been having some issues, erm, with causing explosions unintentionally..." he looked away, clearly embarrassed.

"I could help you sometime!" Harper said quickly, covering her mouth after realizing how loud she had been. After a second, both broke into muffled laughs. 

"Aye would really appreciate that, if you're up for it," Seamus admitted. 

"Of course," Harper replied, "I think it would be really fun." And then there was nothing but silence, and the two standing incredibly close. Harper's stomach was doing flip flops, and this time she was terrified for entirely different reasons. 

"Well," Seamus said finally, "Should we head back to Gryffindor tower?" 

"Yes, let's," Harper said quickly, turning to grab her books and papers, and place them in her rucksack, when she realized just how exhausted she really was. The day had taken quite a bit out of her, what with her first day of classes, fainting, the tryouts, and now hours of studying. She braced herself on the desk with one arm, covering her mouth as she yawned with her spare hand. "Sorry, sorry," she muttered, "I didn't realize how tired I was." She attempted to stand back up straight and wavered a little, laughing lightly at herself. 

"Here," Seamus said, slipping one arm around her waist, "I'll help you. You had a lot happen on a first day." His words were teasing, but his voice was concerned, gentle, and Harper found herself grateful for his arm stabilizing her as they moved. She placed her arm around him as well, leaning into him, full of sleep. 

"It was a good day, though," she said with a smile, "And I never got to thank you, for helping me after the whole...fainting thing. So, thank you," she whispered. 

"Oh, anytime, 'Arper," Seamus waved her off, "That's what friends are for, right?"

"Friends, yea," Harper replied, forcing a smile to her lips. If that's all they were, than what was this for? Why was his arm around her waist at this moment? She was confused for a moment, before coming to the realization that perhaps this was his way of simplifying things. There was no need to talk about what had happened if they both admitted to being friends. That would just be the end of it. 

When he walked her to the entrance to her dorm, Harper turned to him, not entirely sure how to say goodbye. How does one say goodbye to a friend that they are ridiculously attracted to? There should be a class on that, she thought to herself. "Well, thanks again," she said quietly, as to not wake anyone who was sleeping inside the dorm room behind them.

"Ey, it's no trouble, really," he replied with a shrug, opening his arms for a hug. Harper fell into them, and it was as if their bodies were meant to hug one another. The only awkwardness came when they tried to go the same direction, their faces only bumping and becoming close to one another. It was silly, and soft, and Harper couldn't help but laugh, looking into his bright, sky blue eyes. Their foreheads were pressed against one another, both smiling, looking into the other's eyes. Tentatively, Seamus leaned only a centimeter closer, his lips pressing delicately against hers. The kiss was soft, like butterfly wings. And it was confusing, throwing off all the words they had exchanged previously. 

And then there were steps at the bottom of the stairs and the two pulled after quickly, Harper almost leaping backwards against the door to the dorm room, and turned to meet the face of Lavender. 

"Oh, Harper, Seamus, what are you doing here?" She asked sweetly, twirling a lock of hair around her index finger, keeping her eyes mainly on Seamus. 

"Ay was just makin sure Harper didn't faint on her way back up here," Seamus said with a shrug, fidgeting with his sweater which suddenly seemed incredibly itchy. 

"Yep, he's such a great friend," Harper said with a quick nod, turning back to Seamus. "Thanks again," she said, and quickly hugged him goodbye once more. Upon embrace, it was hard for either of the two to pull away, but they managed. "A'll see ya tomorrow then, yes?"

"Yea, yea, I'll see ya then," Seamus replied, and quickly stumbled down the stairs, glancing only once over his shoulder when he reached the bottom, before disappearing out of sight.

"You never told me you were FRIENDS with him!" Lavender exclaimed, grabbing her hands and practically jumping up and down with excitement.

"I didn't think it was...important," Harper shrugged, "Sorry." 

"Not important?? Harper! This is so important!" Lavender said enthusiastically, "Did he say anything about me??"

"Erm, no he didn't," Harper replied, "But I don't think there was really time for the subject to come up, honestly." That was not entirely true. They definitely could have spent the time they had used to press their lips together to discuss Lavender, but that certainly hadn't happened. 

"So how did you two meet?" Lavender asked, still gripping Harper's hands.

Harper sighed and smiled, "Let's just say that's a story for a different day."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, credit and dedication to lovely J.K Rowling and her beautiful characters

The next few days went by without much of a hitch. Seamus and Harper did not speak of the kiss, and Lavender increasingly encouraged Harper to speak fondly of her when around him. Wanting to be a good friend, Harper complied, dropping her name on occasion. They typically sat together, along with Dean, during most classes, and occasionally during meals. She shared one dinner with Oliver Wood, during which she could feel both Seamus and Lavender staring at her the entire time, and she dared not glance at them. 

It was when Defense Against the Dark Arts rolled around that things took a change for the worst. Seamus and Harper walked to class as per usual, and they kept their talks casual, non committal.

Harper, personally, was very excited to have her first class with Mad-Eye Moody, but she was also slightly apprehensive based off of her interaction with the Professor in the stairwell on her first night, something she had yet to tell anyone else about. The waiting, from the moment they got into the classroom was nearly unbearable, a feeling it seemed everyone was sharing. Suddenly, the sound of a loud, clunky footsteps approached the room, and Alistar Moody entered the room, glancing around at his students dismissively, his magic eye moving of its own accord.

Almost immediately, he launched into a speech on curses, and how under prepared they were to handle them. "According to the Ministry of Magic," Moody began, "I'm supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to teach you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it until then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better." 

Harper's eyes widened, and she looked over at Seamus out of the corner of her eye as the Professor went on and on. 

"He's not going to do it nice and polite in your face. You need to be prepared," Moody went on, describing the acts of dark wizards. "You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I'm talking."

Lavender's face went scarlet and Harper glanced over at her friend to see her tucking away a completed copy of her horoscope for Divination. The redhead swiveled her gaze between the Professor and Lavender, noting Moody's magic eye was the one glued on her friend. She gave Lavender a sympathetic look and Seamus sniggered next to her. 

Continuing on, Moody asked if anyone in the class knew any of the curses that were most heavily punished and forbidden, and a series of students shot their hands up. Harper kept hers tucked in her lap, not exactly wanting to participate in whatever was about to happen. It ended up being Harry's dopey ginger friend who was called to answer the first question. 

"...is it called the Imperius curse, or somethin?" He said, a waver of nervousness in his voice. He was right, the Professor gave him that much.

Then, Alistar Moody began to use the curses, one by one, upon a odd looking spider. Harper couldn't help but gasp, and beneath the table, Seamus grabbed her hand quickly, giving it a tight squeeze. She looked at him thankfully, as the professor moved through the three curses, and all Harper could imagine was her father being subjected to these awful, horrible spells, for wanting to leave the Dark Lord. She had never been told how Regulus had died, but if the Dark Lord got ahold of him, she could imagine there was much pain involved, and that made her stomach leap into her chest. And her mother, well, she knew for a fact her mother was tortured and killed.

And with one final "Avada Kedavra," the spider had all life struck out of it. It lay motionless and Harper placed one hand over her gaping mouth. Seamus squeezed her hand again, he didn't have to ask, he didn't have to look, he knew she was not okay. For the rest of the class, Harper felt numb, just going through the motions of note taking. When class ended, she stood up and bolted out of the room, running for the nearest Lavatory and promptly puked the entire contents of her stomach.

Defense Against the Dark Arts, a class she thought she would join, only got worse when Professor Moody said he would be trying the Imperious curse on all of them. Harper felt like she was flying and her broom had been pulled out from under her, like she was falling with no other option besides hitting the ground at full speed. One by one, they all went up and were put under the curse. After seeing her friend Lavender imitate a squirrel and Dean jump around the room singing, she wanted nothing to do with it. When it was Harper's turn, all she could think of was her parents. She was almost certain it had been used on her father before, but who knew what for. She didn't want to imagine her father being tortured, she didn't want to feel what it might have been like for him. She knew certainly it had been used upon her mother, the Dark Lord had tortured her. She didn't want any of it. Nervously, she glanced back at Seamus and Lavender, but didn't say a word.

Gulping, she stepped forward, and stood, facing Moody, who cast the spell upon her. Harper felt herself grabbing a pitcher of water off of the desk, not of her own accord. A voice permeated her thoughts, telling her to pour it upon herself, right over her head. 'do it, do it, do it,' the voice said over and over, and Harper tried her best to keep her hand from raising, but it was unbearably difficult. She squeezed her eyes shut, and all she could think of was her father and mother, of how she would not let them do to her what they might have done to them, how they had sacrificed. 'you will not, you will not, you will not do to me what you did to them,' were her own thoughts, echoing throughout her mind. She could feel water on her face, and she was unsure if it were from the pitcher or her own tears. This could have been what it was like for them, they could have been forced to do any amount of things, they could have been tortured, and it made her MAD. 

Suddenly there was a loud CRASH followed by the sound of shattering, then silence. Harper opened her eyes slowly, surprised to see her hands clenched tightly in fists at her sides. The water on her face was tears, tears rolling endlessly down her face. 

"Yes!" Moody said enthusiastically. "There we go. Not that I'm surprised, a witch of your lineage," he said, and it was almost as if he knew exactly what she had been thinking. 

Harper looked towards the whiteboard and saw water and fragments of pitcher. She had thrown it, apparently. She couldn't make the tears stop, and Moody just kept talking praises towards her. She buried her face in her hands, willing her tears to stop, for all of it to just stop. And then there were arms around her, leading her off and back to the desks. She saw bushy, brown hair. It was Hermione. "Can't you see she's upset?" She lashed out at Professor Moody, "She doesn't want your praise. She wants you to stop." Harper could only nod feebly. Hermione offered her a small handkerchief for her to dab her eyes and Harper took it gratefully. There was a hush over the class for a moment.

"Well," the professor said, "She's done now, so she doesn't have to worry about it any more. The rest of you still have to finish your turn. Ms. Sherlock, you're welcome to leave if you wish." 

Harper needed no further queues. She gathered her things and made her way out of the classroom, tears still falling uncontrollably.


	8. Chapter 8

It took much pleading and insisting and reassuring from Lavender to get Harper to leave her room that night and head down to the Great Hall. Reluctantly, Harper changed into a cropped, cream, cable knit sweater and rust coloured corduroy a line skirt, which fell just above her knees and buttoned all the way up the front from top to bottom, then through on some lace up black boots. Lavender gave her an appraising look of approval before nodding, grabbing her hand, and practically dragging her down the moving stairs to the Great Hall. 

There was a large group of students gathered there, surrounding a large sign. The sign announced the arrival of the students from other schools would occur on Friday, October 30th. With the arrival of that sign, the feel of Hogwarts shifted. Everything seemed to buzz with anticipation, as did everyone. The castle was cleaned from top to bottom, even the dusty library. Harper worked hard on her homework to pass the time, focusing extra attention towards Divination, for Professor Trelawney believed her to have the true Sight, and gave her an extra dose of homework after every class period. It was difficult, truly, and she felt that there was no real way to know if what she found or saw was real. 

Friday could not come fast enough. Harper felt excitement and nerves at the thought of seeing her old classmates. Would they have forgotten her already? Perhaps some of them, but hopefully not all. She wanted to talk to them, about everything which had happened, to point out Lavender, and Seamus, and even Oliver Wood, who had still yet to get back to her about those butterbeers. As she sat at breakfast, picking at her food, her ears perked to the sound of wings. Looking up, her owl, Pennyfeather, flew in on her coal black wings, which had veins of white down running through them. Beside her bird was a snowy white owl. As Pennyfeather landed on her shoulder, dropping the letter, she watched the white owl fly to Harry and drop him a letter of his own. As they held the envelopes, their gazes met, before hastily looking away and tearing into the envelopes.

Her letter, of course, was from Sirius. "I'm back in the country, my darling niece, but staying quite hidden for now," the letter read. "Please, do keep an eye on Harry for me, he's been acting oddly as of late. And your story about Divination is rater interesting. No one on my side of the family was known to have the Sight, but perhaps it was on your mother's end. We can research it more during a safer time. As always, take care. Love Sirius." Harper stared at the letter for a moment before hastily tucking the parchment into her blouse, securing it in her bra. She wasn't sure how she felt about her uncle being so nearby. But, perhaps, Dumbledore had found a way for things to be safe for him around. That would be a real blessing.

Classes went by painfully slowly and Harper couldn't help but pull at strings on her red plaid skirt and play with the ends of her long red hair. When they were finally released and made their ways outside, Harper felt her heart bursting with excitement, the damn thing nearly threatened to beat out of her chest. As they stood at the edge of the lake, Lavender wedged her way between her and Seamus, and Harper found Oliver Wood standing at her side moments later.

"Hey stranger," she greeted, "Long time no see." Of course, they had seen each other at practices, but had not really gotten the chance to catch up, or even chat. She kept hoping he would just ask her to go grab that drink already, but it hadn't happened. 

"Been a bit on the busy side, studying, and strategizing," he murmured softly. "So, how do ya think these students will arrive here?"

Harper smirked, bumping his arm softly with her own, "Well, I already know how Beauxbatons travels, silly. Wouldn't want to give away the surprise." 

Just when she had finished speaking, the first student pointed and shouted, "There!" as a dark shadow gliding through the dark sky at frightening speeds. Hearing the students call out what it may possibly be made the red haired girl snicker. The beautiful, blue carriage, large enough to house many students, pulled be beautiful, giant horses, collided into the ground, rushing to a stop in a manically graceful fashion, and it was all Harper could do to keep from jumping up and down with excitement. 

It was Madame Maxine who exited first, and Harper found herself dipping into a curtsy out of habit. The students around her, led by Dumbledore, clapped. The students poured out next, in their beautiful, pale blue robes with Harper missed so much, the delicate feel of silk on her skin. Harper stood on her toes, peering through the students, looking for the friend which she held most dear. That blonde hair had to be there somewhere.

And then, there she was. Fleur. The girl who had been not only like an older sister, but a friend. Beautiful as always, the Neela descendant moved as gracefully as one might ever felt possible. Harper pushed forward through the crowd, wanting to get a better view, to call out. She made it to the front lines, and moved down towards where Fleur had fallen gracefully into line, standing with the beautiful posture of a ballerina. 

"Fleur!" She called out when she was finally close enough, raising one hand and smiling slightly.

The blonde girl's eyes widened slightly, one perfectly thin eyebrow raised in perplexity. 

"Fleur, it's me, Harper," she said, moving closer, smiling, until she was only a hugs length away from her old, dear friend. 

But no smile dawned Fleur's perfect, rose petal lips. In fact, there was a sneer, if sneers could be beautiful. Harper stopped short in her tracks. Instead of greeting the red head as an old friend, the only thing the blonde said before gliding away was, "Get out of my face, traitor."


	9. Chapter 9

The words hit Harper's face like a sharp slap. It was unexpected, to say the least. She thought she had parted on good terms with the girl, but apparently that was not the case. The rest of the words spoken were lost on her, she hardly even noticed when Durmstrang arrived, their ship rising slowly out of the black pond. She shrunk back into the crowd as if she had never stepped forward in the first place, finding herself next to Harry, Hermione, Ron, Lavender, Seamus, Parvatti, and Dean. 

Dean looked at her with concerned eyes, squinting slightly. He might have mumbled something, perhaps questioned if she was okay, so she simply nodded. Seamus was saying something about Durmstrang but she didn't quite catch that either. All she could wonder was what she had done to Fleur. She had never said a mean word to the pretty blonde. She and Fleur had been so close, like sisters. The elder girl had taken her under her wing in times of great need. They had agreed to write to each other even though they would be busy with school, and they had over summer. Things had seemed utterly normal.

But obviously she had missed something, some vital clue, saying that something was off, saying Fleur was actually upset about her transition to Hogwarts. Suddenly, from beside her there were whispers and exclamations. Harper looked up, blinking, trying to focus. Ron was pointing towards a large figure with dark eyes, wearing a coat made of fur. 

"It's..It's Krum!" Ron hissed from beside her, mouth dropping open in awe. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It seemed silly how riled up everyone was over Viktor Krum. Perhaps it was simply that he wasn't Harper's type, but she didn't find him as attractive as the rest of the girls at Hogwarts did. There were only a few who didn't seem to be fawning over him--Hermione, who seemed equally annoyed by the chatter over the Quidditch player, a pretty, raven-haired girl Harper knew was named Cho, and, annoyingly, Lavender, who still was gabbing on and on about something or other with Seamus. 

Harper took her seat in the Great Hall, next to Seamus and Dean, Lavender sitting across from them. Harper watched as the students from Beauxbatons filed in and took seats at the Ravenclaw table. She could see all of her old friends, together, laughing. Fleur, Libby, Annalies. They looked perfectly fine without her, better than fine actually. They looked happy. Cold, but happy. They were doing that dumb routine they always did, one they had come up with together: pretending to shiver and be chilled, in hopes a cute guy would lend them their cloak. More often than not, it worked like a charm.

When Madame Maxime entered the room, Harper stood up front her seat, at attention, out of habit. A few Hogwarts students looked at her and laughed, covering their mouths behind hands as if that made it less obvious. When her old Headmistress sat, Harper took her seat once more. From across the hall, she locked eyes with Libby, the blonde giving her a small smile before looking away. Well, that was progress at least.

Harper picked at her food until suddenly a shadow loomed over them. "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?" a voice Harper recognized all too well questioned from above. Harper looked up, her red bangs falling out of her pale face, and into the blue eyes of Fleur. Her skin was as pale as snow, as always. Yet, it looked beautiful on her. She could feel all her new friends staring at her old, mouths open. It was the veela in her. She fought herself, forcing not to look at Seamus. She couldn't bare to watch his reaction to the beauty in front of them. Boys always loved Fleur. 

Fleur was clearly addressing the others, but it was Harper who she looked towards, their eyes locked. The energy between them was palpable. No one spoke a word. 

Finally, Harry broke the silence. Harry freakin Potter, of course. "You can have it." Fleur's blue eyes flashed towards him for a second before looking at Harper, raising an eyebrow. Harper pushed the dish towards her, across the table. 

"Rencontrez-moi dans la cage d'escalier nord ce soir," Fleur said to Harper, cocking her head to the side. 

"Oui," Harper replied quickly with a short nod, looking down. The message was clear. Why she was going to be meeting Fleur was lost on her, but it was possible that it was a sign. Fleur grabbed the dish, turned on her heal, and walked back to the Ravenclaw table, hips swishing the whole way.

"They don't make them like that at Hogwarts!" Ron exclaimed once she was gone, watching Fleur the whole way back to her table. 

Finally, Harper dared to look over at Seamus. He was looking back at her, with those blue green eyes of his. He mumbled something, she couldn't quite be sure of what, but she thought it might have been "Yea they do."


	10. Chapter 10

When Professor Dumbledore announced the Triwizard Tournament, the Hall went wild. But what really caught Harper's attention was the Goblet of Fire. The cup itself was made of carved, old wood, and contained the most beautiful, blue flames. Of course, she wasn't nearly old enough to place her name in the cup, but she didn't mind. She just liked being able to watch it. There was something so intriguing. And then the diner was over and students were fumbling out of the Hall. Harper took her sweet time leaving. 

And once everyone was gone and she was quite comfortably alone, she made her way towards the North Corridor, where Fleur would most likely be waiting. 

And she was, just as expected, standing there in her periwinkle blue robes, clutching a stole about her shoulders and attempting to appear soft and cool as she leaned against the wall. "Ah, 'Arper, you came. Good, I thought you may...not come near us." 

"Why?" Harper asked, "I'm not the one going around callin you a traitor, am I?" 

"Non," Fleur looked at her feet, "I...may have spoken too soon when I saw you again. I admit...I was...upset." She stumbled through the English, as she always had. But it still sounded beautiful. Everything Fleur said always seemed perfect. Sometimes, it was infuriating. 

"Gosh, why would you ever 'ave though that?" Harper asked sarcastically, with a roll of her large eyes. She had no time for games. 

"I am sorree," Fleur pouted. "Yes, yes, I was rude. Zat is not zee point," she stomped one tiny, black-shoed foot. "You just...when you...you left without a word 'Arper,you left us all behind." Her lower lip trembled ever so slightly until Fleur got ahold of her composition and put a quick end to any sign of weakness. God forbid she ever show weakness.

It was hard then for Harper not to just immediately throw her arms around then thin girl. She understood what Fleur meant, but she needed her to understand why she had left. "It's not that simple, Fleur. I din't just up an go for no good reason. I just...I cannae explain it now. I need you to know I din't mean to hurt any of you...." she trailed off, rubbing the back of her head uncomfortably. "Can you....can you understan that?" 

Fleur looked at the girl for a moment, studying her, large, purple eyes unblinking, thin lips pursed tightly. For a while, Harper thought that was it, that Fleur was going to laugh in her face and turn tightly on her heel and saunter off, skirt swishing side to side. But then she spoke. 

"Fine, yees, I can understand zhat," the blonde said with a quick little nod. And then the smile split across her face and she wrapped Harper in an unexpected hug and whispered in her ear, "I am going to put my name in zee Goblet."


	11. Chapter 11

On Saturday, Harper woke to see nearly all of her bunkmates were gone, even Lavender, who enjoyed sleeping in on weekends as late as she could. The redhead rolled over to eye her clock on the bedside table, brushing aside the canopy curtains to peer at it. It was only 9:30 in the morning, yet all the other girls were gone from their beds. Yawning, Harper stretched her arms and slung her legs over the side of the bed. Somewhere in the castle must be the rest of her friends.

After quickly doning a pair of black, skinny kapris and a blue zip-up hoodie, Harper hopped down the stairs back towards the dining hall. She could hear the mass of students before she saw them. There was a small mob of students around the Goblet of Fire. A thin, misty, golden, circular line was drawn around it on the floor, forming a ten foot radius. The group of students stood outside it, watching the blue flames lick at the air, and whispering to one another.

Harper had no real interest in the Goblet. Of course, the dangerous challenges would probably be interesting to watch. Especially if her friend Fleur was chosen. (Although, admittedly, it did scare her a bit, the idea of her close friend being in there). Instead of stopping to chat with the others watching near by, she went and found herself a spot at the Gryffindor table, next to Dean and across from Seamus. The school had gone rather all out for the Halloween theme this year, with pumpkins decorating the tables, wrapped in coloured leaves. There were swarms of live bats flickering around in the enchanted ceiling, which flashed with lightening. 

"What about you Harper, who do you think is entering?" Dean asked her as she sat down, pulling a small biscuit onto her plate as she did so. 

Harper shrugged, "Is it too biased of me to say that Aye think all of the Slytherins will put there names in?" A small smirk covered her lips as she bit into her roll. "'Cause Ay'm pretty sure ery last one of 'em will at least try it." Part of her wanted to mention her friend Fleur, but she felt slightly jealous of the their thoughts returning to her beautiful face. It was petty, and she knew it, but it was human nature. 

"Sounds about right," Seamus agreed and he shoved a forkfull of food into his mouth. Just as he did so, a squealing ball of blonde rushed up to the table, plopping herself next to Seamus. Lavender. 

"There you are," Harper said, forcing a smile to her face, even while she noticed how close her friend was sitting to Seamus. She really should have told her about over the summer. She really, really should have. "You were gone when Aye woke up this mornin." 

"Oh yes!" Lavender gushed, "I just wanted to get down here as early as possible and work on my astrology charts and watch everyone put their names in! So far I think every eligible Durmstrang student has done it." She held her star charts clutched tightly to her chest. Harper had picked up quickly that she relied highly in the idea of having an inner eye. "You should come to the Attic in your free time Harper, really. Remember, Professor T said you had the Sight." 

"Yea right before she passed out and we had to take er to the medical ward," Seamus rolled his eyes while Dean nodded in affirmation. 

"Pretty sure it was jus the fumes up there," Harper shrugged. "But if it means that much to ya, maybe Aye'll come," she offered a small smile. At that same moment, the Golden Trio arrived, bringing loud chatter in their tow. 

"Morning Harry," Dean said polietly as Harry sat down across from him. "Did you hear there's a rumour going around that Warrington got up early and put his name in the Goblet? He's that big bloke from Slytherin, the one who plays Quidditch and looks like a sloth." 

Harry let out a loud groan. "We can't have a Slytherin champ!" Harper furrowed her brow. She had only been here a short while, but she didn't entirely understand why there was so much drama between the different branches. They were all from the same school, after all. Nothing like that ever happened at her old school. 

"All the Hufflepuffs are talking about Cedric Diggory," Seamus pointed out, gesturing with his fork. "But Aye wouldn't have thought he'd risk his good looks like that." The table laughed, and Harper looked over towards the table of gold and black where Seamus was pointing. Cedric was good looking, in a gentle, pretty way. 

Suddenly, there was an uproar from the entrance hall. "Listen!" Hermione said, quieting the rest of them.

The group of fourth years all turned in their seats to look towards the sound and saw Angela Johnson, a fellow Gryffindor who also played with Harry and Harper on the Quidditch team coming into the hall with a shy grin on her face, slight pink tinting her cheeks. She made her way quickly over to the table, finding an empty seat near by. "Well, I put my name in," she said modestly, flashing a slightly larger smile.

"You're kidding!" Ron said, a smile on his pale face, clearly very impressed. The whole table seemed pleased to hear one of their own had put their name in. Harper thought it better to just pay attention to her food rather than the drama.

That is, until a steady flow of Beauxbatons students began to sweep into the room, Fleur being near the head of the group, her old group of friends near her. Immediately, the boys' heads all swiveled. Fleur turned, searching the tables. When she caught sight of Harper, she motioned for her to come over. 

With a sigh, Harper stood from her benched seat, carefully walking over to her beautiful friend. "Good morning, Fleur," she said, as the blonde wrapped her in a hug.

"It eez, it eez," Fleur agreed, squeezing her tightly. "I am about to put my name in zee Goblet." She held up a small piece of parchment with her curved handwriting upon it. With that, she pulled back from the hug, releasing her with a small nod, indicating she may leave.

Harper wound her way back to the table, sitting back between her friends. "You know her?" Ron asked, eyes wide.

Harper turned her green eyes back towards the group of girls, who had all finished placing their names in the Goblet. "I used to," she said softly.


	12. Chapter 12

In the afternoon, a soft layer of clouds had rolled in and covered the grounds in gentle rain and mist. Harper found herself sitting on the long bridge which hung over a wide cavern. It was comforting,standing there in the rain, letting it soak her hair and clothes. She really didn't mind. It was calming to have a few moments in the cold mist by herself, blowing on her hands to warm them up. Tonight was going to be a big night--the announcement of the champions for each house. The night she would find out if one of her best friends from early childhood would be putting her life on the line for fortune and fame. Not that Fleur needed either of those things. 

The redhead leaned against the railing, looking down at the deep chasm below. She wondered just how far down those deep rocks went. As the was lost in thought, she heard footsteps behind her, and saw a tall, timid, Asian girl with beautiful, straight black hair and a blue scarf, reading as she walked along, about to bump into the side of the railing. "Hey!" Harper called out, "Watch your step." The last thing she needed was to see someone go tumbling over the railing she had just been studying. 

The Ravenclaw girl looked up, eyes wide, clearly startled, looking over at the railing, then back at Harper. "Thank you," she said, her Scottish accent breaking through, matching Harper's. "Sorry, I wasn't expectin anyone alse to be up 'ere. Glad you were though, I might ev gone right over the edge." She smiled shyly, tucking her book under her arm. "My name is Cho, it's nice to meet you." 

"I'm Harper," the 4th year said, shaking her hand firmly, matching her smile. "Glad I was here too. Why are you out walking in the rain?" 

"I find it relaxing," Cho admitted. "I'm a little nervous, my boyfriend, Cedric, put his name in the Goblet. I don't like to think about risking himself like that." She shrugged sheepishly.

"I feel the same, honestly," Harper admitted, finding something trusting in this girl. "One of my old friends put her name in. It worries me. But the school wouldn't let anyone get hurt, would they?" 

"That's actually why the age restriction is here now," Cho explained, "The Ministry decided the competition was far too dangerous for most of our younger students." Her fine lips were pressed together in a thin line as she stared out at the cavern below.

Harper looked over at the girl, eyes widening, before she too looked out at the ravine. "You're kidding..." she muttered, brow knitting with worry. Even though she and Fleur had grown slightly distant, they were working on rebuilding their bond. And obviously Harper didn't want to see her _die_. She didn't want to see anyone die, much less for a silly competition. "That's....I can't even imagine seeing someone you love competing in that." 

"Well, I suppose you understand more than most, what with your friend putting her name in," Cho replied, glancing over at the girl. "Frankly, it's rather nice to have someone to talk to about it. None of my schoolmates seem to try and understand it quite the way you are right now." 

"I'm happy to listen," Harper admitted. And even though her friend was trying to compete, at least it wasn't someone she had feelings for. For a fleeting moment, her mind drifted to thoughts of Seamus, even though she tried to keep them away. What if he were in the competition? She couldn't even imagine it, didn't want to imagine it. It made her stomach feel as if there were stones hanging deep in the pit of her belly, weighing her down. 

"Well, Harper," Cho said, turning to her, "It was a pleasure to meet you. I'm sure we'll bump into each other again soon, but I do have to get to an extra quidditch session soon." 

"I'll see you around," Harper smiled at the girl, "If not at school, then on the quidditch pitch at the very least." 

Unexpectedly, the raven haired girl wrapped her in a quick hug, before smiling, and briskly heading off the bridge.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honour of the anniversary of the battle of Hogwarts, ive started posting this again❤

The announcement of the TriWizard competitors would be tonight, not that Harper was in any way prepared for what that meant. On the upper side of things, she knew there was no way she could be selected, she was too young, and she would never throw her name in that cup anyways. It seemed silly that any wizard of young age could be entered into a competition where they could very likely lose their life. Also, she just didn't see the point behind it. Bragging rights, maybe? But that was it, really. Nevertheless, she was glad it had brought her back to some of her oldest friends.

She couldn't help but feel filled with dread, though. Something seemed unsettling about what was about to happen. She had always had a good sense for that sort of thing, things she could dread, things she should worry about. Professor Trelawney might have thought it something more than intuition, but Harper just chocked it up to good breeding, or lack there of. Without her parents to keep her safe, she found herself often dreading the worst, expecting it, even. This tournament was no exception. But the only person she could have confided in was Lavender, and when she tried to suggest anything of the sort, Lavender waved her ideas off. 

"You're just being silly, Harper. Come on, let's get on down to the Great Hall, they're going to start dinner soon," Lavender said with a wave of her hand and a toss of her curly hair which she had just finished tying a pink ribbon in. "And we wouldn't want to miss the announcement, now would we?" She said it as if it were the most logical thought on earth. 

"No, I suppose not," Harper said, adjusting her maroon and gold tie in the mirror. She had changed back into her traditional school uniform, as was expected of her, complete with matching maroon and gold striped socks. She turned to look at Lavender, who was dressed the same aside from her bow. "Let's get going then," she said with a slight smile, even though her heart felt as if it were beating out of her chest. 

When they made it to the Hall, almost all the seats were already full. They managed to squeeze in between Fred and George, across from Harry, Dean, and Seamus. They exchanged general greetings before commencing with their meal. 

"How was your day, Harper?" Dean asked her, as he cut a slice of ham and dipped it into brown gravy, before placing the bite into his mouth and smiling. 

"Nothing all too interesting," She replied with a shrug, buttering a piece of bread. "Just did some studying for the potions test coming up next week and went for a bit of a walk out in the rain. You?" She had always found Dean to be rather pleasant since she had met him. Agreeable, friendly, and known to crack the slightest of jokes when no one was paying too much attention. She enjoyed his sense of humour. 

"Potions eh?" Dean questioned, cutting up some more food. "I thought you were pretty good in that class. What are you wasting your time studying for when you could be out having fun?" 

"Fun? When I could be reading? No thanks," Harper joked. "And I'm not worried about the test, I just like to be prepared." she shrugged, glancing over at Lavender beside her, who was too busy batting her eyelashes at Seamus to be paying any attention towards her. She felt that twinge of annoyance when she saw this, but didn't say a word.

"Well, you know who really could use some help in the potions department?" Dean asked, elbowing Seamus in the ribs, causing him to bump into Harry's shoulder. "This bloke right here. Seamus is bloody miserable at anything potions related." 

"Aye now, bug off," Seamus said, elbowing him back. "Where do you get off tellin everyone I suck at school?" he asked, slightly angry, but not really. He knew Potions was his worst course, and there was no use really fighting that. He just couldn't seem to stop from blowing things up. 

"Oh come on now," Dean said with a laugh, "I wasn't saying anything bad, I was just recruiting Harper here to tutor you," Dean looked across the table, giving her a nod of encouragement. 

Harper's cheeks flushed. What on earth did Dean think he was doing? She was about to object, say she had never volunteered to do anything of the sort, when Seamus looked over at her and grinned. With that one look, she knew she couldn't back out then. 

"You'd really do that for me, 'Arper?" the brunette Gryffindor asked hopefully. There was a glint of something in his eyes. What was it? Hope? Harper tried not to think too much on it.

But nonetheless, she couldnt resist that smile of his, not even if she tried. "Well I suppose we could work something out, if you can make it worth my while," she joked. She could see Lav frown out of the corner of her eyes but she tried to ignore it. She was just doing this as a friend. It was fine, really. Maybe she was being a little flirty, but nothing too intense. It was all fine. She brushed a strand of her wavy hair behind her tiny ear.

Suddenly, she felt a pair of heavy hands rest on her shoulders. Looking up, she met the brown eyes of Oliver Wood. "Excited for the drawing?" He asked her as she spun around in her seat to face him, standing up so they could have an actual conversation, so he wasnt talking down to her. 

"Excited is one word for it," she joked. "What about you? You seem in pretty high spirits." 

"Well..." He drew out the word, creating suspense intentionally. "I did just place my name in the Goblet this morning, so you could say Ay'm pretty excited." 

Harper's eyes went wide as she stared back at him. "You did what?" She asked, the words tumbling out of her wide open mouth. How could he have done something so utterly stupid?? How could he go putting his life in danger like that? 

"What, no kiss for good luck?" Oliver said cheekily, giving her a wink that caused her skin to tingle from head to toe. 

She lowered her voice to make sure none of her friends, particularly Seamus, overheard any of their conversation. For some reason, she couldn't quite bare the thought of that. "You'll have to finally take me out for those butterbeers if youre tryna get yourself a kiss," she said breathily. 

"Oh yea?" Wood replied, and she noticed his cheeks were quite a bit more pink than they were moments ago. "What about Saturday afternoon then aye? Friday night if my name gets drawn, want to get all the luck I can if Aye'll be competing." 

"Sounds like a plan to me," she replied, smoothing her skirt and looking back at her table, back at her friends and at the food waiting for her. "I'll catch up with you before then and we'll sort out the details." A smile touched her lips before she spun around and sat back down.

"Oliver Wood is really quite smitten with you Harper, isnt he?" Lavender asked, giggling and twirling a lock of her blonde hair about her finger. Of course she had to bring it up, of course. 

Harper shrugged, glancing at the way he had walked off. "Seems that way, though I'm not quite sure why. Only thing he's ever seen me do is play Quidditch." She noticed an annoyed look on Seamus' face and frowned. "He'll lose interest, I'm sure. Not much I'm bringing to the table as a fourth year, is there?" 

Seamus smacked the table, looking over at her. "Oh shut up, 'Arper, we all know he'd be a bloody idiot to not be interested. Blimey, youre a damn catch and we all know it." He locked eyes with her, breathing heavily. Harper couldn't blink, couldnt even breathe. 

Dean patted him on the back, trying to get him to calm down. "Sorry guys, Seamus here has had a bit too much butterbeer before dinner, smuggled it in from Hogsmeade last weekend for something or other. Liquid courage and whatnot. Seems he's had just a tad too much for his own good." 

"Oh, the poor thing," Lavender cooed, placing her thin hand on top of Seamus' gently for a second. "If you start to feel unwell or you need anything, I'm always here." She batted her eyes flirtatiously, though it looked more like she was twitching in Harper's opinion. 

Dean looked over at Harper pointedly. "Please keep an eye on him," he whispered to her softly. "And for gods sake figure out whatever the hell it is going on between you two." 

"What do you mean?" Harper started to ask, but Dean was already turning away to look up at the front of the Hall, where Dumbledore now stood, commanding attention. 

As the room fell silent, their headmaster began to speak. "Now, it has come time for the event you have all been waiting for. The naming of the Triwizard champions for this years tournament." A small buzz of voices grew over the crowd, and Dumbedore waited till they fell silent. "Let us begin," he said with a wave of his wand, and the crowd watched in awe as the first name flew out of the cup, selecring the first champion. 

"Viktor Krum!" The old wizard called out, and cheers erupted from students from all schools, cheering for the Quidditch star. The next piece of paper fluttered out of the Goblet, like a small, paper butterfly. Harper knew it was from her old school. Her stomach sank. This was the moment of truth.

"Fleur Delacour!" He announced, and everything around Harper went foggy. She clapped, she was pretty sure. Her friend had truly been selected. She felt nothing but dread. Her friend was going to die. 

She was so caught up in her horrible thoughts that she didnt hear the fourth name called, or see the momentary horror on Cho Chang's face. So caught up that she almost missed the fourth name fly out of the cup. So caught up that she almost didn't hear him call out "Harry Potter," over the hushed crowd.


	14. Chapter 14

What with classes and the buzz over the upcoming tournament, the rest of the week practically flew past and it was Saturday before Harper even knew it. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to be on the date she have agreed to with Oliver Wood, but now here she was.

It didn't seem right to be entertaining such ideas of fancy when one of her friends had put herself in mortal danger for God only knows why. Fleur didn't need fortune, her family had plenty of that. Fame, perhaps? But that never seemed to be Fleur's gimic. She gained plenty of popularity on her own accord, simply by existing, simply by having a presence. 

And then there was the issue of Harry Potter. He was all her uncle seemed to be interested in talking about lately. How exactly had Harry's name been drawn? It was still a mystery to all, and a mystery as to why the Goblet had chosen four names instead of the traditional three. 

Harper had called him out about it the evening of the drawing. "How could you be such an arse?!" She exclaimed, jabbing her finger sharply into his chest. "Don't you realize what you've done has put my uncle in danger? Put people _like us_ in danger?" 

Harry had stared at her, wild eyed and bewildered, his back pressed against the cool stone of the hallway, a sort of anger and confusion pinching his face. "Harper I don't know what you've heard but I _didn't_ put my name in that bloody cup. I dont want any part of this! All I want is a normal school year for once. First you show up here, then this mess happens. Ron wont even talk to me anymore," he frowned at her. "And you choose to judge me before even asking if I had anything to do with it." 

Harper sighed, taking a step back, holding her hands up in front of her. "You're right. Thats my bad, 'Arry. I shouldnt have jus...jus assumed. I know youre bloody good at magic, but to break through Dumbledore's spell...that would have been really something." She sighed, scratching at her head. "And they're making you compete still?" 

"The Goblet has spoken. All that bloody nonsense," Harry replied, clearly annoyed. He didn't get why this shit always happened to him. Always. Couldn't it be someone else's burden for one year? Some times he got real bloody sick of being the chosen one. 

That had been two days ago.

Now, the redhead sat in front of her mirror, looking at her outfit one last time. She had donned a metalic black miniskirt and black tights, paired with a long sleeved sweater, cashmere and the deep blue colour of the night sky, as well as a big, chunky, maroon infinity scarf. She had done her brilliant red hair up into a high bun, as well as thread some braids throughout her pulled back hair, pairing the ensemble off with brown lace up boots. She felt as if she looked date ready, but she didnt entirely feel date ready. 

Or maybe she didn't feel ready to to on a date with this specific person. She hardly knew Wood, aside from his cheeky grin and enthusiastic love for Quidditch. As far as how he was as a person....Harper didnt know all that much. Though, she supposed, she would find out today. 

Just then, as Harper was reapplying her mascara for the billionth time, Lavender burst into the room, blonde hair all a flurry. "Woah," she said breathlessly, giggling. "Look at you! What are you doing all gussied up like that?" She asked, squeezing your shoulders. 

"Ay'm, umm, going to Hogsmeade for butterbeer," Harper murmured, covering up her pale cheeks with her hands to hide their rosy hue. 

"Youre going on a date?!" Lav exclaimed, mouth widening with glee. "Ohmygoodness, with who?? Who is the lucky bloke?? Spill all the details please! Right bloody now!" Lav playfully slapped her arm, giggling. 

"Its not a date, not really," Harper protested. "Its just drinks, and its just with Oliver Wood. We're going to talk about Quidditch things." Well, maybe that last part was a bit of a fib, but Lavender didnt need to know that. What she didn't know wouldnt hurt her. 

"Ohh gosh, lucky you!" Lav cooed. "Isn't he just the dreamiest?? And someone in year seven! How did you get so bloody lucky?? Ooh just wait until I tell Seamus! Maybe that will spur him on to ask me!"

"No!!" Harper practically screamed, pulling herself out of her friends grasp. "I'm sorry, just. No. Dont tell him. Dont tell anyone, please," Harper said, this time in a calmer tone, noticing the slight buldge in her friend's eyes. "I don't want anyone to know just yet. It Could go terribly." She couldnt imagine Seamus knowing. She didn't want him to know, ever. She didnt want the date not to be with him.

Lavender stared at her for a second, brow crunched up in confusion. "Okay, I'll mums the word. You can trust me, Harper. No one will know unless you want them to." 

Harper smiled at her friend earnestly. "Thank you." Then, she grabbed her leather jacket off her bed and slipped it over her arms. "I've got to go now, though. I'm supposed to meet him downstairs now. I'll be back in a couple hours. We can talk then?" 

"Of course!" Lav said, her cheery tone returning once more. "I'll want every detail!" 

Harper smiled goodnaturedly. Of course she would want every detail. That was the type of person Lavender was. The opposite from Harper. The redhead wanted to keep to herself, keep her life as private as possible. But she would have to take that on later. 

Taking the stairs down to the commonroom two at a time, she came to a breathless halt at the bottom, smiling when she saw Oliver Wood standing there. "Evening, Oli," she said, breaking the silence of the room. He was the only one standing there, wearing a smart sweater and grey slacks that fit him quite well. The only other sound was the soft crackling of a warm fire. 

"'Arper!" The Scotsman greeted happily, stepping forward hesitantly, before wrapping her into a quick hug. "I was a wee bit worried there that youd gone and forgotten me." 

"You? Never," Harper smiled demurly. "Lets be on our way then, it is getting a little bit late." She could see the sun setting outside the windows. 

"Yes, let's," Oliver grinned, opening the door for her and ushering her out into the hall. 

The walk to Hosmeade didn't take long, and while it was chilly, Oliver had seemingly no qualms with slipping her small hand into his larger one. Harper could tell he was nervous, his palms were just slightly sweaty, but not in a bad way. She liked his nerves, honestly. It made her feel less bad about being so bloody awkward. 

They talked lightly about Quidditch, about how he was disappointed the sport was postponed this year due to the tournamemt. Harper told him she was happy that he hadn't been chosen, explaining one of her close friends had. They talked and listened, and things overall, were very good. 

After they arrived at The Three Broomsticks, Oliver got them a round of butterbeer and they sat down in a small corner booth, legs pressed lightly together, as they sipped the frothy drink, simply chatting and laughing. After her second mug of the butterscotch drink, Harper could feel a light buzz, her whole body becoming warm and tingly. Everything Oli was saying seemed funnier.

"You know, I graduate this year," he mused. "Goodbye Hogwarts, hello world." There was a small hint of sadness in his voice. 

"Oh yea?" Harper giggled, "Graduatin and leaving me behind, aye? What a tosser!" 

"Hey now," Oliver leaned lightly into her. "I can't help that. Not my fault ya waited this long to come to school here." 

"Oh ya? And if Id come here earlier?" Harper quipped back, liking the way he looked at her directly in the eyes. 

"Well, I would have taken ya on a date much sooner, Aye can tell ya that much," Oliver grinned back at her, clinking his glass against hers. He liked the way giving her compliments made her cheeks dance with red blush. "Shall we be headed back, then?" He asked, linking his fingers through hers once more. 

"Sure, whatever ya want," Harper replied with a smile, squeezing his hand lightly. 

They paid for their tab and walked lazily back to the school, admiring the stars along the way. It was a perfect night, really. Harper just couldn't help but think it wasnt with the perfect person. 

"Well, here we are," Oliver said, stopping at the bottom of the stairs that lead to the bunk rooms. 

"Here we are," Harper affirmed with a nod, still feeling a little bit of a buzz, though it had mostly worn off at this point. 

"I had a good time tonight, 'Arper. I hope you did too," Oliver grinned down at her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. 

Without much notice, no real warning at all, Oliver was pressing his lips on hers. They were warm and soft, and the kiss was sweet. It was a simple, good thing. But there was no spark. No electrcity. Oliver Wood was no Seamus Finnigan.


End file.
